Pocket Watches and Belts
by Hannelore-Grace
Summary: A series of scenes detailing events in the life and Jim Moriarty and Sebastian Moran. Essentially smut with some plot thrown in for laughs. M for a reason.


**Author:Warnings for violence, attempted suicide, sexy times, bombs, cursing, and dark humor. Really, just a typical day in the life of Jim and Seb. Essentially porn with a wee bit o' plot. NC-17. Also, if anyone spots my favorite oh-so-subtle innuendo, you win internet cookies.**

~oOo~

Sebastian stalked down an alley, his footsteps falling silently in the filth and rubbish. He slipped into the shadows, creeping up a fire escape, careful that his rifle didn't strike any metal as he scaled the side of the building. He hauled himself up the final few feet onto the roof and began walking parallel to the sidewalk below. He matched his pace with that of the lone figure strolling through the night, measuring each step so he was always next to and above his target. He watched the figure so intently that he could see the plumes of mist huffed between his lips with each breath, a smoke signal declaring to the world that the man's heart was still steadily beating in his chest.

The figure paused at a corner, drawing a pocket watch from his suit. The light of the street lamp above caused two flashes to glint across its face. Sebastian slowly fell back a bit, his eyes still tracing the movement of the man as he turned into an alleyway and rapped on a door. It creaked open, surely loud enough to draw sleeping tenants from their beds. But, no. All remained calm, only the low murmurs coming from the two figures in the alley punctuating the night with their sound. Sebastian watched as the two disappeared indoors before drawing his equipment from its case. He carefully set everything up, ensuring that all was perfectly in order and ready if his assistance was needed. Using his scope, he peered into every window along the side of the building until he spied his mark once again. He eased his finger onto the trigger and waited, flipping his earpiece on so he could hear the conversation inside.

"I'm so glad you could make it. I was afraid the chill might drive you indoors." The first voice lacked any distinguishing accent besides that of the typical Londoner. Not his target.

The second responded with the harsh cadences of a German accent. That was him, then. "Don't be ridiculous. I never pass up a friend in need."

"Good. That's good. Well, it's just that we've hit a spot of trouble. Our market was doing well, very well, in fact, but lately business has started to fall. You see, there's a rumor that we have a mole in our ranks, and no one wants to buy from a seller that may have been infiltrated by the cops."

"Of course not."

"What I need, well, what I was hoping you would do is find and kill any potential coppers."

"Mm." The German responded with a dissatisfied sort of grunt, as if the man opposite him had requested that he squash a cockroach with his bare hand. "I do not think that your proposition is within the realms of my expertise. I am not a common assassin."

"I did not say you were. This job will require the most thorough investigation and care. It must be done without the moles knowing that they are being observed. I assure you, your time will not be wasted, and you will be compensated well."

"No. I do not think I wish to become involved in a business arrangement with you at this time. You may contact me once you have a problem that is actually worth my time." The German turned to leave, but the Englishman grabbed him by the shoulder, preventing him from leaving the room. Sebastian's finger compressed the trigger of his rifle just the tiniest bit, nerves thrumming as he took aim.

"I don't understand. When I first contacted you, you said that you would take care of any problems that I have, now you're just walking out on me? That's bullshit."

"No, _sir,"_ the word was spat with the most scathing condescension on the part of the German. "I said I would handle any of your interesting problems. This isn't interesting; it's child's play. You're just too lazy to do the work yourself. No, I am not your servant to clean up the messes you don't want to deal with. I am a god compared to you. You want me to crawl among you mortals and wash my hands in the gutter next to you? I don't think so. I should be realigning stars while you snivel at my feet."

The man gaped at the German, his grip on the man's arm tightening for a moment before releasing him. "You won't live to see next week. I swear to you this. You've crossed the wrong man."

"They all say that," the German stated with a sniff. "But I have yet to see them succeed." He straightened his suit haughtily and lit a cigarette, his pale fingers curling elegantly around it as he brought it to his lips. "I believe I'll be off, if that's all you have to say to me."

"Yes, you should leave while you still can."

The German gave a bored sigh but strolled out the door, casually dropping his partially smoked cigarette into the hallway outside the room. He disappeared, only to walk out the front door a few moments later. He walked across the street but turned and gazed coolly at the building he had just exited. As if on cue, a bang rumbled through the night, followed by shattering glass and the crash of debris falling to the ground. The quiet night was suddenly ruptured by the cacophony of chaos and destruction.

Sebastian watched apathetically, settling his rifle back into its case. He sighed as his mark merely continued to stand in the street, the glow of the flames throwing his pale features into sharp relief against the night. Sirens were wailing in the distance and voices were screaming from windows, but still the man remained standing out in the open. Sebastian cursed, gathering the last of his equipment and clambering down the fire escape to drag the man back into the shadows.

"Seb!" He looked up at Sebastian his eyes wide and body thrumming with excitement. He dropped the German accent as he talked, reverting to his usual Irish lilt. "Isn't it marvelous? Oh! It was perfect. They didn't suspect a thing...Yes, yes, it was just wonderful." He was babbling and shaking, a grin tearing across his face while his fingers clutched desperately at Sebastian's shirt.

"Yes, Jim, it was good."

"Good?" Jim's large brown eyes stared up at him incredulously, his lips twisting into a puckered scowl, as if he had just sucked on a particularly potent lemon. "It was fucking brilliant! Think, Seb. A gas that can cause just as much damage as propane but has no odor? Think of all the possibilities! And this is just the beginning. Oh, all the games we can play..." He trailed off, his eyes staring feverishly at the burning building across the street. His whole body shuddered, as if the force of his own brilliance was too much to bear. "A cigarette. I did all that with just a cigarette."

"Yes, Jim. You're a genius."

_~oOo~_

Sebastian groaned and rolled over, his hand flailing at his nightstand until it came into contact with his ringing phone.

"Hello?"

"Seb..." It was Jim's voice, but cracked and thick with tears. "I don't want to die after all."

_Fuck._

"Where are you?"

"My flat."

"Which one, Jim?" He sighed in exasperation. Leave it to Jim to forget he had three separate living quarters at a time like this.

"The one with the balcony."

Of course. If Jim were really determined to kill himself, he would make sure there were heights and splattered bodies involved. The man had a weird fetish for falling.

"Okay, I'm on my way. Stay on the phone with me though. Why don't you put it on speaker?"

There was the rustling sound as Jim fumbled with the buttons of the phone and then the crackle and echo of the phone adjusting to its speaker setting.

"Good. Can you tell me what you did or took?"

"All of it." Jim's voice sounded distant and hollow, as if he were talking through a tin can.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Jim! What in bloody hell is wrong with you?"

"Couldn't sleep."

Sebastian cursed under his breath. He should've seen this coming; it had happened enough in the past that he should have been able to spot the signs on the horizon. He had, however, been particularly busy lately thanks to Jim's latest set of games. He hadn't even been able to visit Jim at his flat since before the Chinese smuggling gang fiasco. He regretted not finding at least a few minutes to check up on him now, though. He should have taken Jim's unusual silence in the network as a warning, but he had been so preoccupied with setting up each of Jim's little trials for Sherlock that he simply hadn't thought much of it.

"Jim?"

"...Yes." It was a ghost of an answer, just a breath barely forming the word that traveled over the phone line.

"How long ago did you start?"

"Two hours-ish."

"And you're just now calling me?" Sebastian was speeding through the London traffic, weaving his car through the lanes as he pushed the gas pedal down even harder.

Silence.

"Jim? Jim!"

A shuddering gasp crackled over the line, followed by Jim's impossibly soft voice. "Present."

"This is not the time for joking, Jim."

"Keep talking, please."

"Okay. Well, why don't I start by telling you what an utter moron you are. Really, Jim? Suicide? You go on and on about how unintelligent we all are, but then you go right on and do the stupidest thing imaginable. You're a git, Jim. A stupid, senseless git. And if I thought I could find a job nearly as good as this one, I'd leave you to your own devices and see how long before you and your empire were in ruins."

"Mm," Jim's grunt came over the phone, but Sebastian couldn't figure if it was of anger or pain. Possibly both. He suspected that once he had Jim patched up once again he was going to pay for saying all that. Then again, Jim was typically pretty benevolent following one of these episodes. Probably Sebastian should just watch for any laxatives in his meals for the next few days.

He finally pulled into the nearest parking space and jogged into the building. Once he was in the stair well, he ran as quickly as he could to Jim's floor, cursing the man and his insistence on living on the top floor of every building. Apparently, he thought that if there was ever an earthquake, he would be less likely to get crushed to death that way. Sebastian had argued with him about it endlessly, saying that statistically the lower levels were the safest in most emergencies, but Jim had obstinately refused to see his logic. It wasn't a problem until times like these when Sebastian was gasping as he ran up yet another flight of stairs. Knowing that he had a busy night ahead of himself really didn't help his agitation towards the exertion at all.

"Jim?" He called as soon as he stepped through the door. He heard a muffled rustling coming from the dining room, so he headed in that direction. Sure enough, he found Jim slumped over the table with a vast array of alcohol and pill bottles strewn across the wooden surface. There was even a couple of bottles of cough and cold medicine thrown into the mix. Jim lifted his head long enough to blink hazily up at Sebastian in greeting before collapsing back against the table. Sebastian gave a frustrated sigh but stepped over to get a better look at the damage nevertheless. He was glad to note that at least this time Jim had opted to leave the knives in the wooden block in the kitchen.

"Okay, up you get." He hauled Jim out of his seat and began dragging him towards the bathroom. He supposed that he could have been a bit more gentle, but in his mind Jim deserved whatever bruises he had the next morning. He plopped the man onto the floor of the bathroom, quickly stripping away his suit before pushing Jim's head forward to rest against the edge of the toilet seat. Jim would forgive a great many things, but he would not let splatters of vomit on his beloved Westwood go unpunished. Sebastian then grabbed the nearest long, slender object he could find- a toothbrush, vaguely noted- and forcefully shoved it down Jim's throat. Already knowing that Jim had a rather impressive ability to control his gag reflex, Sebastian pushed the toothbrush as far as he could manage without risking getting vomit on his hand when the spewing finally started. Sure enough, Jim started coughing and retching only a few moments later. Sebastian withdrew the toothbrush and rolled Jim's head over so that the vomit found its way into the toilet.

While Jim was preoccupied with emptying the contents of his stomach, Sebastian went to take a look at the collection of items gathered on the table to see what he was in for that night. The sleeping pills weren't much of a surprise; he suspected that the whole fiasco had started as a result of Jim's insomnia. He rolled his eyes at half-empty bottles of whiskey, vodka, and, strangely enough, champagne. He figured that a large part of these had been consumed at an earlier date, but he still thought Jim was going to have either alcohol poisoning or one hell of a hangover. The cough and cold medicines weren't that much of a concern; most of them were children's strength because Jim hated the taste of adult medicine, and it looked as if he hadn't managed to get the tops off many of the bottles. As far as suicide attempts went, this was relatively mild for Jim.

Satisfied that he wasn't going to have to haul Jim to the A&E to have his stomach pumped, Sebastian re-entered the bathroom in which he had left Jim. He had stopped vomiting now and was merely slumped over the seat of the toilet, his breath shuddering between too-pale lips as he tried to recuperate. Sebastian retrieved a cloth and began swiping at Jim's forehead with a deep scowl glued to his face.

"You've got to stop doing this, you bastard. One of these days I'm not going to come for you."

Jim's mouth quirked in a close approximation of a smile. "You're lying."

"So? You could humor me; I am wiping puke off your sniveling chin, after all."

"That's your own fault."

"I'll remember that the next time you need a toothbrush shoved down your throat." Jim started lightly giggling, then, and Sebastian withdrew his hand to give him an incredulous look. "Now is hardly the time to be laughing, Jim. What could possibly be funny about this?"

"It was your own toothbrush you shoved down my throat."

_~oOo~_

China clinked in indeterminable patterns and clatters. The noise was utterly infuriating to Sebastian, almost as much as the tie corded around his neck and the stiff shoes that Jim had forced onto his feet. He thought his discomfort was well worth it, however, to see Jim himself dressed to the nines. Something about the way his suit hugged around his hips was nearly distracting enough to make Sebastian forget about all the other miserable aspects of the night. Almost.

"I'm sorry, James, I don't recall having met your friend before. Have you been together long?" The female was positively purring across the table at Jim. It didn't take a genius to know exactly what she had in mind as her eyes roved lasciviously over Jim. Sebastian felt the color rising in his cheeks, but he quickly calmed when Jim ran one finger up his thigh in a slow, silencing stroke.

"I've known him for quite a few years, actually, Martha. We only recently became an item, however." Jim smiled the same rattle snake smile that he used when stalking his prey, all the while maintaining the contact between his finger and Sebastian's thigh. The singular contact was driving Sebastian mad, and he wanted nothing more than to demand Jim add more to it. Jim, however, seemed perfectly content with his light, tingling stroke.

"Well, I can't say that I'm not surprised, James. My wife and I always took you for more of a ladies' sort." The rotund man sitting across from Sebastian laughed, and Sebastian could have smashed his face in with the man's fancy china. Jim simply shot Sebastian a look that said, _Soon, _before turning back to the conversation.

"Yes, well, I'm sorry to have misled you, George. It was necessary in the profession, I'm afraid. One doesn't often get promotions if they're suspected of being a bit off." Jim's thumb was now slowly running up and down the serrated edge of his dinner knife. Knowing that Jim wasn't one to indulge in nervous habits or ticks, Sebastian's attention zeroed in on the movement and attempted to decipher the meaning behind it. It became clear when he saw Jim remove his pocket watch from his suit jacket and flipped the top open. His finger brushed ever so slightly against the knob which controlled the hands on the face of the watch. He set it on the table, then, and smiled pleasantly back up to their hosts.

"Well, I'm certainly glad that you've found happiness, Jim. No matter in what packaging it comes." The lady named Martha beamed toothily at Sebastian in a manner which made him convinced that she would rip his throat open and take Jim right next to his rotting corpse if she ever got the chance.

Sebastian couldn't help but smirk at the woman. She was just so pathetic. He couldn't believe that she thought herself good enough for Jim. "I'm glad to be the one that brings him happiness," he stated simply while adding a possessive squeeze to Jim's hand on the table for good measure. Her face darkened slightly in response to the movement, bringing Sebastian a burst of glee at her frustration.

He was distracted from reveling in her anger, however, by Jim's sharp cry. Just because he had been expecting it didn't mean that the noise didn't disturb Sebastian any less. He turned to find Jim staring wide-eyed down at his increasingly bloody palm. He looked up, his brown eyes almost comically wide as the blood drained from his face. Their hosts would think that it was out of the panic of Jim seeing his own blood; Sebastian, of course, knew that it was merely because the blood was draining to _other _parts of his body.

"Bloody hell, James, what did you do?" The fat man named George leaned across the table to get a look at Jim's hand.

"I dropped my knife," he responded weakly. "Here, I'll just go clean up in your bathroom, if you don't mind."

"No, no, of course. It's right down that hall and to the left. Third door."

Jim gave the man a sharp nod and wandered off in the general direction of the loo. Sebastian watched him leave in order to maintain his facade as the concerned beau before turning his attention back on the couple sitting across from himself. He was an awkward smile as dinner resumed, this time in silence. He collected Jim's pocket watch, then, glancing at the face of it to read the last message Jim had left him. It was running three minutes fast. He tucked it into his pocket and began quietly jabbing at his salad while he waited for the time to pass. Finally, once three minutes had elapsed, he cleared his throat and rose from his seat.

"I think I'll just go and check in on Jim, er, James. He can get a bit queasy around blood."

"Of course, go right ahead, my boy." The only thing that kept Sebastian from using the butter knife as a scalpel on the man's face was the knowledge that Jim was waiting for him in the bathroom planning God-knows-what. Sebastian slipped into the corridor and was walking towards the third door when pale hands gripped the back of his jacket and dragged him into a different room.

"Jim! What the fuck?" Any further protests were silenced by Jim's mouth pressing violently against his own. The man's tongue pried its way into Sebastian's mouth and began carefully exploring every corner of it. Sebastian groaned as Jim rolled his hips against the front of Sebastian's trousers, causing him to become _very _aware of the erection straining against Jim's pants.

Jim disentangled himself long enough to grin wildly up at Sebastian while making quick work of his partner's belt and buttons. "I want you fuck me, Seb. I want you to fuck me right here on those tossers' bed."

"Oh god yes." Jim had already stripped himself of his own suit before pulling Sebastian into the room, so all Sebastian had to do was divest him of his pants. He ran his hands down Jim's back and onto his buttocks while Jim finished stripping Sebastian of his tie and button up. Good riddance to them, too. With a hungry growl, he shoved Jim onto the bed, smirking as the criminal fell splayed across the sheets. "How long do you think we've got?" He asked while clambering onto the bed to hover above Jim.

"All the time in the world, darling. If they try to interrupt, I'll shoot them." Jim beamed up at him while pulling a gun out from where he had stowed it beneath the pillows. Sebastian could positively feel his pupils dilating farther at the sight of Jim naked and holding a hand gun.

"Fuck, Jim, you came prepared." He dropped his head down to begin nibbling against Jim's neck while Jim gave a satisfied groan, tilting his head back to farther expose more of his skin.

"Yes, about that-" His sentence was interrupted by a sharp groan as Sebastian's tongue circled his nipple then teeth pulled at it. "I seem to have forgotten the condoms."

"Mm," Sebastian was a bit too preoccupied with working his mouth down every inch of Jim's exposed stomach to really care about condoms at this point. "Pity," he murmured between nips at Jim's skin. "Seems a shame to ruin these pretty sheets of theirs."

"Oh, Christ..." At that, Jim shoved Sebastian down the final few inches to his cock. Sebastian obligingly took it into his mouth as Jim rolled his hips up into the wet heat of his mouth. He gave a strangled grunt, curling his fingers into Sebastian's hair while Sebastian's tongue circled the head of his cock then laved down the length of it. "Fuck, Seb. I'll be very-" His breath hitched as Sebastian hollowed his cheeks against his cock. "Very put out if you ruin my plans by making me come in your mouth."

Sensing a vague threat in Jim's words, Sebastian pulled away and dragged himself back up the bed to capture Jim's mouth in another harsh kiss. As usual, Jim showed his growing disinterest in the activity by biting down on Sebastian's lip until it was uncomfortably painful. Sebastian grunted and pulled away as soon as Jim released him, quirking an eyebrow at him. "Well, did you at least remember the lube?"

"Of course." Jim's hand darted out to reach onto the side table and toss a bottle at Sebastian. He caught it and then promptly flipped Jim onto his stomach before pushing his legs apart to expose Jim farther. He deftly rubbed the lube over his hand before reaching between Jim's legs to circle a finger around his hole. Jim wriggled ever so slightly at the touch, his breath increasing as Sebastian slowly edged the first finger through the ring of muscles. "More, I need more, Seb."

"I know," Sebastian ran his free hand down Jim's back and then pressed firmly into the hollow above his hips. He then worked in a second finger and began pumping the two in and out of Jim's body in a firm, steady rhythm. Jim tried to push back into the touch, but the hand on his back restrained him and forced him to remain pressed against the mattress. He gave a frustrated grunt at the loss of control, but his protests were quickly silenced as Sebastian pushed and third and then fourth finger in. He could see Jim's knees pushing into the mattress and his toes curling as Sebastian sent electric shocks of pleasure through him with every forceful entrance of his fingers.

"Oh, fuck, Seb, yes. Now. I'm ready. Now, I want you now-" Jim's chanting was abruptly cut off as Sebastian hauled him up by his hips and buried his cock as deep as it would go into his arse. They moaned in unison, then, both gasping as the sensation became sharper, overwhelmingly so. Jim quickly positioned himself so that he wouldn't topple as soon as Sebastian started pushing into him. Seeing that Jim was ready, Sebastian quickly pulled himself out, then pushed back in as forcefully as possible. Jim gave a keening cry and pushed himself farther onto Sebastian's cock, groaning as the movement further stimulated his prostrate. They quickly picked up a rhythm, with Jim pushing back as Sebastian pressed himself forward. Sebastian was sure that Jim's wordless cries would alert their hosts to what they were doing , but he didn't much care at that point. He had so little self-respect where Jim was concerned anyway, how much damage could fucking the man senseless in front of an audience really do to his ego?

"Seb, oh God, Sebby, I'm close...So close...Now, Seb. Now-" Jim had to throw a hand out of catch himself on the headboard as Sebastian began pounding into him even harder while wrapping an arm under his body to grip Jim's cock. He gave a guttural, animalistic cry as Sebastian pushed him over the edge. Sebastian followed soon after, nearly collapsing on top of Jim as his world whited it in intense pleasure. Somehow, they both managed to roll to the side of the mess Jim had left on their host's linens, each of them gasping and moaning as they came down from the aftershocks of their frantic fucking.

Jim was, as usual, the first to regain his bearings. He quickly rose to his knees and began cleaning himself of Sebastian's ejaculate, leaving it smeared across the sheets and pillows and he saw fit. He even picked up the corner of some of the covers and meticulously cleaned any of the residual mess from Sebastian's cock. Sebastian bit his lip as the touch was painfully stimulating on his overly sensitized prick, but it was over quickly, and Jim shoved him off the bed so he could begin putting it back in order. Sebastian was amused to see that, during their escapades, the clotting that hand formed on Jim's injured hand had broken open and now their hosts had blood along with semen streaked across their sheets. There was even a bloody handprint on their headboard which Jim covered by propping the pillows up against it.

"You wouldn't happen to need to take a piss, would you, Seb?"

Sebastian thought about it, seeing the eagerness in Jim's eyes and deciding that he could at least give it a go. "I can try, but you've got to leave the room."

Jim stared at him incredulously. "You just had your cock shoved up my arse, but you don't want me to see you take a piss?"

"Boundaries, Jim. Normal people have them."

"Fine, but be quick." Jim snatched his clothes up off the floor and headed in the direction of a side door which Sebastian could only assume led to the bathroom. After having done his business on the sheets, Sebastian quickly turned the bedding back up and arranged it just as neatly as if nothing had been done. If they left a window open, and Sebastian was sure they would, the smell would quickly dissipate, leaving a high probability of their hosts getting under the covers before they even realized something was amiss.

"I'm done." Sebastian was already mostly clothed, but he refused to put the tie back on. Jim came strolling out of the bathroom, giving the bed a quick glance to make sure it was in order before turning his attention back to Sebastian.

"Very good. We can go now." Together, they clambered out the window and down onto the fire escape. Jim was positively hopping down the rickety stairs and skipping down the street was they looped their way back around the building to their car. This was a bit much even for Jim's post-coital high.

"So what was that about, anyway?"

"What? Oh," Jim beamed at him. "Just some long-awaited revenge, of course. That bastard George said that I'd never do much of anything if I didn't learn how to control myself. So I thought to myself, what's the one thing George has lost through all these years of his "control"? And of course the answer is as clear as day through his pathetic tramp of a wife. George has gotten himself a case of erectile dysfunction, meaning that, even with medication, he couldn't hope to have the sort of sex we just had."

Sebastian smirked as he thought of how the couple would react to finding their bed that night. He almost wished he could be there to see it. Of course, he had the far more pleasurable benefit of getting to be with Jim that night, and judging by the way Jim was flushing in ways not entirely related to the cold, it was going to be a very long, very pleasant night, indeed.

_~oOo~_

A shadow fell across Sebastian as he peered through his scope once more. He repressed a smile, not even bothering to look over his shoulder to check who was standing behind him.

"Evening, Jim. Nothing interesting happening in the webs tonight?"

"Not even an assassination to be plotted," he sighed despondently.

"Well, get down, you git. You're going to give my position away."

He heard Jim's huffy sigh behind him. "I can't. You chose the most absolutely filthy building as the site for your stake out."

"Jim," Sebastian growled, "get down before I force you down."

He heard the shuffling of Jim's Oxfords as he stepped closer, stripping off his coat to toss it on the ground beside Sebastian before laying down next to him, the coat acting as a barrier between his body and the thick layer of dirt on the top of the building.

"You're going to freeze to death. Or get pneumonia." Sebastian rolled his eyes but otherwise kept his sight on the building as he waited for his target to make his exit.

"I've already had pneumonia. I can't get it again, can I?" Jim's arms were tucked up firmly under his chest to help keep his body heat from escaping. Sebastian knew it wouldn't be long before he was utterly miserable and vocalizing his contempt for all things related to meteorology.

"Yes, Jim, you can. Really, is it too much to ask that you keep the basic knowledge of how to prevent viral infections and the like handy? It would make my life so much easier." Sebastian smirked as he felt Jim's heated gaze on him.

"I could, but I would much rather let you deal with that tedium." Jim's whole body shuddered in the cold, and he had to actually pull his hankerchief out of his pocket to use it to dab at his nose. Sebastian would have been scandalized to see Jim use his hankerchief for its intended purposes if he weren't legitimately concerned that Jim's snot would freeze in his nose and suffocate him.

"How do you tolerate this?" Jim looked over at Sebastian, his nose and ears flushed red in the light visible from the street lamp below. "It's bloody miserable."

"Well," Sebastian began, "I have sense to dress for the occasion, and I'm not terribly concerned about my clothes getting a bit dirty. That at least takes care of the cold. Mostly, at least." He repressed a slight shiver. "It starts to get to you after a bit."

Jim watched him in a calculating manner for a moment before pushing himself up off the ground once again. Sebastian scowled, "Hey, get back down!"

"Do shut it, Seb. I'm taking care of both our problems." Jim scooped his coat up and stepped one leg over Sebastian so that he was straddling him. He then laid himself over Sebastian's back, pulling his coat over the two of them before placing his chin in the dip where Sebastian's neck met his shoulders and threading his arms under Sebastian's chest. "There. Now there's double the body heat," he murmured into Sebastian's ear.

"If you drip snot onto my scarf," Sebastian stated coolly, "I won't hesitate to turn this gun around and shoot you."

"Yes, you would, darling. If only because then you'd have to take your eyes off your mark, and you certainly don't want to do that." Nevertheless, Jim brought his hankerchief back up to his nose.

They laid there in silence for a few long minutes, Jim's breath ghosting over Sebastian's ear as they both stared down at the entrance to the building. Sebastian was vaguely aware of Jim's hands snaking deeper into the folds of his coat, the man's freezing palms pressing up against his jumper to gather more warmth.

"I'm bored," Jim mumbled after a bit.

"You've been with me on these things before; did you really expect it to be any different from the other times?"

He felt the cold tip of Jim's nose press up behind his ear, but still his eyes didn't stray from his target. "I was hoping you would at least make an effort to be more entertaining this time around."

"What do you want me to do," Sebastian grunted. "Get up and perform and song and dance for you? Or would you prefer a strip tease?"

"Mm," Jim hummed. "The latter sounds nice, but it's much too cold out for that. How about a story?"

"I'm not telling you a bloody fairy tale, Jim," Sebastian growled. "I do have a job to do, if you hadn't noticed."

Sharp teeth clamped down on the shell of Sebastian's ear. He clenched his jaw but otherwise didn't say anything.

"I'll start you off," Jim purred into his ear. "Once upon a time, there was a handsome prince and his loyal knight."

"The prince was a bit of a twat," Sebastian continued the tale,"but the knight still stayed around, mostly because he was just as nutters as the prince." An elbow found its way into Sebastian's ribs, making him cough in surprise.

"That's not how fairy tales go, darling." Another bite, this time on his neck, to punctuate Jim's displeasure.

Sebastian gave an irritated sigh, but began again anyway. "The prince was a bit of a twat, but the knight stayed around anyway, mostly because the prince was sexy as hell and a damn good shag."

"That's better," Jim hummed. "One day, the prince was walking through his kingdom when a hideous beast attacked him."

"Was the hideous beast a one-eyed, one-horned, flying purple people eater?" Sebastian asked while stroking his fingers over a scattering of bruises up Jim's wrist.

"No. It was more of a cross of an inbred troll with an orc." Jim's chin nuzzled into Sebastian's scarf as he sought out more warmth. Certainly he wasn't looking for comfort.

"Ah. Okay." Sebastian's position shifted slightly as he spied movement within the building, his muscles tensing and then relaxing into their hunter's instincts. "The prince's knight came to his rescue quickly, wielding his fierce sword to fight off the beast, but the beast escaped with only minor wounds."

Jim shivered on top of Sebastian, but not from the cold this time around. Like Sebastian, he had spotted the movement near the entrance of the building. "After caring for his prince, the knight left the kingdom to hunt the beast." Jim was almost panting with anticipation as light streamed from the slowly opening door below.

"For days, the knight stalked the woods outside the prince's realm, until he finally located the beast's lair." Sebastian's finger curled loosely over the trigger of his gun, his breathing steady as he took aim.

"The beast, not knowing that its life was in danger, wandered from its cave just as the knight took aim with his bow, an arrow notched and pointed directly at the beast's heart." The sensation of Jim's breath brushing over Sebastian's ear froze as the muted report of Sebastian's rifle thrummed through the cold night.

"The beast was vanquished," Sebastian said calmly while he lowered his rifle, "and so the knight returned to the prince's kingdom, wherein they celebrated for many days and many nights."

"Particularly the nights," Jim responded dryly, and Sebastian abruptly became aware of the erection pressing through Jim's trousers and into his lower back. He smiled to himself as he finished packing away his equipment. Now _this _was the sort of fairy tale ending he could get behind.

_~oOo~_

Sebastian stood in the shadows, quietly watching the scene unfold below while listening to the chatter in his ear piece. Well, chatter wasn't quite fitting for what was happening. It was whispered reports and hissed commands, tense silence and clipped tones. Everyone was walking on pins, everyone was afraid that they would be the one to make a blunder.

This time around, Sebastian was not hiding behind a rifle. Jim had orchestrated this little meeting with their friend Sherlock, and it was Sebastian's job to translate his vocal and physical cues into jargon his men could understand. They didn't spending every waking and many sleeping moments with Jim, after all; they couldn't possibly be expected to know that "hands tucked in pockets" translated to "steady," nor could they know that a raised and cracking voice meant for them to prepare for the worst. He translated all of this for them, whispering new commands into his mic every few seconds as Jim waltzed merrily with his consulting detective.

But then Jim's cues stopped making sense. His voice dripped in sickly sweet lightness when it should have been condescending and biting. He brushed at his lapels when he should have stepped aside and let Sebastian order his men to take aim for the pet. Something was collapsing, something was breaking, but Sebastian wasn't sure what.

"Stay steady," he whispered into his mic while taking to the stairs. He wished he could have seen Jim's eyes from his vantage point. His eyes always said more than his mouth or body ever could. He quickly and quietly exited the building once he reached the bottom level and then looped back around once outdoors so that he was standing outside the entrance that Jim had used. From here, he could see the three of them still talking, Jim relaxed back into his casual stance once again, but even from this distance, Sebastian could tell that their plans had changed.

_Damn it, Jim,_ he thought to himself, _this was supposed to be quick. Show up, make a threat, and then leave. Why aren't you leaving?_

As if reading his thoughts, Jim cheerily bid them farewell and stepped out a side door. Sebastian heaved an angry sigh and exited the building once again, this time running back around to the side through which Jim had disappeared. Voices crackled over his ear piece, but Sebastian simply ordered them to hold their positions with their sights off. He suspected that their services would be needed soon.

By the time he had made it to Jim's door, he saw that Jim was standing rigidly, a deep scowl etched across his features. "Jim, what in bloody hell are you doing?"

"He's not right!" Jim exclaimed angrily. "Not what I expected. He's so...fragile." His shoulders slumped as they saw Sherlock pacing anxiously, the gun he carried brushing through his hair nervously. A stupid way to handle a fire arm, but Sebastian wasn't about to comment when Jim looked so dangerously wound up.

"It's alright, Jim. I'm sure it was just-"

"No!" He was abruptly cut off by Jim's furious cry. "_He,"_ Jim hissed the word as if it were the worst of curses, his finger pointing viciously at the door, "is not right." And with that he turned and marched right back into the swimming area, slipping easily back into his facade of calm. Sebastian cursed under his breath and quickly told his men to take aim once again and turn on their sights.

Sebastian watched through the small slat of a window on the door as Jim casually confronted Sherlock once again, this time making it quite clear that they were not to make it out of the pool without a bit more of a struggle. Sebastian, however, was intensely aware of the fact that the vest of explosives was closest to Jim, that if it detonated, it would be _Jim_ catching the brunt of the explosion. Sebastian's chest constricted as Sherlock lifted the gun to level it at the crumpled pile of clothing, making his own counter threat to Jim's words. He watched in anger as Jim just stood there, not moving except for a vague oscillation of his head, a fucking challenge for Sherlock in the movement.

Sebastian hissed a series of contingency orders into the mic, assigning his next in command with the responsibility of making sure that Sherlock and John didn't make it out of there without a few bullet holes adorning their bodies. He then quickly tore the mic and ear piece off; it wouldn't do to have them shorting out and giving him a shock if they did wind up in the pool. He waited until the last possible moment, not wanting to give his position away before Sherlock fired. Otherwise, he might choose to shoot directly for Jim instead of the vest.

An untrained shooter will always have tells. For this, Sebastian was glad that Sherlock was the one holding the gun instead of the doctor. The doctor wouldn't have flinched slightly in preparation for the recoil of the gun; the doctor wouldn't have given him that second of knowledge before actually pulling the trigger. For this, Sebastian was thankful. Because the slight twitch of Sherlock's cheek before his finger curled around the trigger allowed Sebastian a moment's worth of preparation before throwing himself out the door and towards Jim. He lunged desperately for the suit-clad form just as the report of Sherlock's gun rang through the pool, just as the sound of multiple rifles firing filled the void, just as heat and shuddering waves blasted over Sebastian.

They stumbled and fell together, Sebastian instinctively rolling on top of Jim and covering his head with his hands clasped over his head. For the next few minutes, awareness of their surroundings was condensed to sensations and sounds. Heat and pain, crashing and screaming, whose screams he wasn't entirely sure, he only hoped they weren't Jim's. Gradually, the ruckus faded into the hissing of ruptured pipes and a distant wail of sirens. He pushed himself up using one arm, the throbbing of his other having already reported a significant injury of some sort, before looking down to see what damage Jim had incurred. A deep gash above his left eye was coating his face in crimson, and his head rolled loosely on his neck as Sebastian tried shaking him awake. Knocked out, then. Probably there was a bruise forming underneath the blood.

Sebastian groaned and hissed in pain as he rose of his feet, his mind becoming more aware of injuries as they screamed in protest at the movement. His left shoulder was dislocated, most likely from their awkward landing, and his back was a throbbing mass of bruises and lacerations. He could feel pieces of tile in places they shouldn't be, namely buried in his skin, and his ankle was pulsing unpleasantly as he stepped around Jim. Still, he stooped and collected the unconscious man into his arms, somewhat awkwardly so, given his less-than-functional shoulder. He trusted that his men had already evacuated the building, and so he carefully picked his way through the rubble with Jim slumped against his chest.

He got them out of the building and two streets over before Jim began moaning and stirring his his grasp. Sebastian quickly lowered him onto the ground, propping him up against a building while he knelt in front of him to examine the damage. Jim's eyes rolled open, the left having to do so through a thick coating of blood.

"Seb?" Jim asked weakly.

"Yeah, you bastard, I'm here." Seeing that Jim wasn't at risk of vomiting or seizing any time soon, Sebastian settled himself beside Jim and began carefully probing his own wounds to see how severe they were. All in all, it could have been a lot worse, but he was going to be sore for a couple of weeks.

"I think you knocked my head on the ground," Jim mumbled while gingerly touching the gash above his eye.

Sebastian quickly batted his hand away, scowling at him. "Stop that. You'll increase the risk of it getting infected if you probe it with your grubby hands. And you're lucky that I didn't throw your sorry arse into the pool. A knock on the head is a walk in the park compared to potentially drowning."

"I can swim," Jim mumbled, slumping against Sebastian's shoulder. "Thanks, though."

"No problem, you twat." Sebastian leaned his head back against the building, letting his eyes fall closed. Now that the adrenaline was wearing away, he was more aware of the pain radiating through his body.

"Should I call the car?"

"Please do." Sebastian hoped that the alcohol supply was in abundance. He could use a good buzz, or even just some vodka to pour over Jim's face to wash away some of the blood. He looked terrifying, coated as he was in the tacky liquid. It would also help if Jim was less aware when they started stitching up his face.

Sebastian watched as Jim pulled out his phone and called their driver. He then stuck the device back into the pocket of his now ruined Westwood, smiling as he nuzzled his head onto Sebastian's shoulder once again. "Well, I think that went swimmingly."

Sebastian scoffed. "Oh, yeah. Nearly getting blown to bits and getting your henchman filled with shrapnel is exactly how these things are supposed to go."

"You're hurt?" Jim turned large, questioning eyes on Sebastian, looking for all the world like a child concerned for their sick puppy.

"No, Jim, I just like running around covered in blood. It's a jolly good time for me." Sebastian was thankful that he could see the headlights of their car pulling around. He wasn't sure how much longer he was going to be able to hold himself and Jim together. And if one of them fell apart, they both would.

Jim's eyes roved over Sebastian as he took in the scattering of cuts and bits of tile buried in his skin. "I'll call in the medic," he murmured, his hand brushing gently over Sebastian's injured shoulder. "I'm sorry, Seb. I didn't mean for you to get hurt."

"No. None of that. It's fine. Just get in the damn car and be sure to tell the medic to bring some tranquilizers when he comes."

"Okay," Jim said while dragging himself to his feet. Sebastian could tell that Jim assumed the tranquilizers were for when the doctor tried patching up his shoulder. No point in telling Jim that they were for him when the doctor went to stitch the gash above his eye. Jim did so hate to be sedated.

_~oOo~_

Sebastian groaned and rolled over in his bed, his hand flying out to flail for his phone once again. It seemed as if any time he actually managed to sleep at his own flat, Jim was demanding that he come back to his for some inane reason.

"What now, Jim?" He might as well live with the bastard. It would save him a lot of trouble in the long run, and he was already half moved into Jim's flat anyway.

"Seb," Jim's voice was odd somehow, but Sebastian couldn't quite place how so in his half-asleep state. "I need you."

"Fucking hell, Jim. It's three in the morning."

"Doesn't mean I don't need you."

Sebastian groaned but began rolling himself out from in under the covers nevertheless. "If I come over there to find that you've bloodied up the knives again, I'm going to be pissed."

"No. No. It's nothing like that. Just get here soon, yeah?"

"Yeah, okay." He hung up and pulled on a pair of slacks. He was out the door and headed towards Jim's flat within minutes. It occurred to him that he hadn't asked exactly which flat he would be in that particular night, but Sebastian assumed that it would be the one with the balcony again. Jim did so like that balcony. He arrived in just under twenty minutes and quickly jogged up the stairs, once again cursing Jim for his choice in flat locations. He then punched in the security code on the door and strode in, preparing himself for the worst.

Jim was lounging across the sofa, a glass of scotch in hand and a cigarette burning between his fingers. He looked utterly calm, if a bit disheveled. "Good morning, Seb," he purred before taking a drag off his cigarette.

"Jim," Sebastian growled. "If you've called me here for a fag and a drink, I'm going to be very put out."

"Would you now?" Jim asked casually while swishing the contents of his glass around. "Would you be angry? Angry enough to punish me?"

Sebastian's eyebrows furrowed as he began to pick up on what Jim was hinting at. "Of course. You've dragged me out of bed and made me drive half way across the city, after all."

"Mm," Jim hummed, rising from the sofa in one smooth move and prowling across the room so that he was standing with his chest nearly pressed up against Sebastian's. "And what would you do to punish me?" He breathed smoke across Sebastian's face, causing Sebastian to close his eyes and inhale deeply.

"Well," he began, closing the final space between them. "I think I would have to take away your drink first," he slipped the glass out of Jim's hand and drained it, setting it on the table behind himself as he continued. "Then your cigarette," Jim obediently placed it in Sebastian's mouth without further instruction, only pulling it away after Sebastian had taken a long drag. They kissed fiercely, then, Sebastian breathing the smoke into Jim's greedy mouth. He then put the cigarette out, dropping it in the empty glass on the table.

"Then I would have to make you get on your knees." A firm hand on Jim's shoulder and he was kneeling in front of Sebastian, his dark eyes staring up at him blankly, submissively. Sebastian began slowly unbuckling his belt, making a show of the action while Jim watched. Once it was unwound from around his waist, Sebastian kneeled on the ground in front of Jim, pulling him into another kiss while forcing his arms behind his back. He expertly wrapped the belt around Jim's forearms, pinning them together and then buckling it over his wrists. Sebastian smirked as Jim instinctively began pulling at the bonds to test how much give he had. Having learned that Jim could undo most forms of bondage if given any slack, Sebastian made sure that they were tight enough to be slightly painful, tight enough to bite slightly into his skin.

Sebastian rose to his feet once again and made quick work of the buttons on his slacks, carefully stepping out of them and then kicking them aside, all the while Jim was staring up at him. Sebastian stepped slightly closer to Jim, grabbing a fist full of hair and pressing Jim's face against the bulge in his pants. Jim gave a low hum of approval, stroking the tip of his nose over the form of Sebastian's cock before slowly mouthing at it through the fabric of his pants. Sebastian held him there, occasionally tugging at his hair to encourage him further. After a few minutes of enjoying this activity, Sebastian roughly shoved Jim back and shucked off his pants. He smirked as Jim struggled to remain upright while in his bonds, then quickly grabbed his hair once again and pushed his cock into Jim's open mouth. He moaned deeply, thrusting into the wet heat as Jim worked his mouth around Sebastian's cock.

He allowed Jim to suck him off until he felt the heat building to a dangerous level in his lower abdomen. When Sebastian was afraid that he would be unable to stem off his climax, he pushed Jim away, smirking at his reddened lips and mussed hair. Sebastian finished stripping himself then, tossing his shirt off carelessly before dragging Jim up to his feet using his tie. He buried a kiss that was more bite into Jim's lips as he began undoing the buttons on Jim's shirt. He shoved his down around Jim's elbows, unable to completely remove it because of the bonds but equally unwilling to untie Jim, and then Sebastian began biting and sucking little marks over the bared expanse of Jim's chest, his tongue circling and lapping at Jim's nipple as he worked his way farther down his torso. Finally, he was on his knees in front of Jim and working off the man's trousers. He deftly dragged them from Jim's hips, followed by his pants. He then rose to his feet and forced Jim to step out of the pile of the clothes on the floor. He left the tie on for laughs; it could prove useful later.

Sebastian pulled Jim back over to the sofa and together the collapsed onto the cushions, exchanging sloppy kisses punctuated by bites and sharp moans as their hips grinded together. Sebastian's fingers trailed down Jim's back then lightly circled his entrance. He smirked as Jim let out a low whine, begging for more. Quickly, Sebastian had rolled them both off the sofa and then had Jim bent over the arm rest, his arse exposed to Sebastian's whims.

"Lube?" He asked simply.

"Side table," Jim responded, his voice pitched low from arousal.

Sebastian quickly located it, smiling at the array of supplies Jim had stored within the drawer. Apparently, he expected a long night, and Sebastian was more than happy to oblige him. He flipped the cap open, smiling at the shudder the noise elicited from Jim. He coated his fingers before ghosting them from the cleft of Jim's arse to his entrance where he increased the pressure, the tips of two fingers rubbing in tight circles around his hole. Jim's hips rocked upwards in an attempt to gain more friction, but Sebastian quickly brought a hand down onto his arse, leaving a reddened print in its wake.

"No, Jim," Sebastian reprimanded. "This is supposed to be punishment, remember?"

Jim gave a low growl, but its effect was lessened by the way he lustfully spread his legs. Sebastian shook his head, once again gently probing Jim's entrance. He gripped the belt that bound Jim's arms together and dragged him back so that his back arched up off the sofa. Jim gave a pained groan as his muscles strained to accommodate the movement, but Sebastian ignored it, simply positioning himself closely behind Jim such that his cock rubbed between Jim's spread legs while his mouth descended to Jim's exposed neck. He sucked and bit at the pale skin, leaving red and pink marks in his wake, all the while slowly thrusting his hips so that cock stroked teasingly over Jim's puckered hole.

"Fuck me, Seb. I want you to fuck me," Jim gasped.

With that, Sebastian dropped his grip on the belt, causing Jim to fall face-down into the cushions with a disgruntled groan. "I haven't even prepared you yet, Jim," Sebastian said smoothly, adding a tantalizing twist to his hips as he rubbed off on Jim.

"Then get on with it!" Jim demanded, sounding more than a little displeased. Apparently, he had not expected this turn of events. That, or else he was playing into Sebastian's game for his own pleasure. Sebastian could never tell which, but he always suspected that he was somehow being manipulated into giving Jim exactly what he wanted, whether or not Jim protested the entire way through.

Sebastian finally stepped back and smoothed some more lube over his fingers before he picked up his probing of Jim's entrance. He teasingly slipped his index finger in up to the first knuckle, twisting it around before sliding it out once more. Jim grunted in frustration once more, but Sebastian ignored him in favor of reaching down to fondle his balls. This elicited a keening cry from Jim, and Sebastian decided that he liked it enough to reward Jim by pushing two fingers into his hole. He worked them in and out, all the while still stroking and fondling Jim's balls. Jim moaned loudly, his breath now coming out in desperate pants. Sebastian had to bite his lip to keep from moaning himself as he watched his fingers disappear into Jim's body, imagining that warm tightness wrapped around his cock. By the time he had worked in a third finger, Jim's legs were shaking and Sebastian could feel his resolve quickly crumbling.

He removed his fingers then, making Jim whimper at the loss of contact. Sebastian pushed his fingers through Jim's binding once again and yanked him up from the sofa. He spun Jim around to indulge in a harsh, biting kiss while directing them in stumbling steps towards the bathroom. The journey was made even more difficult by the fact that Jim's balance was thrown by having his arms tied behind his back, and Sebastian consistently had to grab him by his hips to steady him. By the time they actually made it to the bathroom, they were both gasping and moaning as their hips and cocks thrust together. Sebastian let go of Jim as they stepped over the threshold and pushed his hips against the counter such that he was facing the mirror. He next unbound Jim's arms, only to force them out and above his head to the ring meant to hold hand towels. He pressed Jim's wrists to it, threading the belt through the metal and around Jim's forearms to bind them there. Jim watched in silence, his a light in his eyes dancing with intrigue and arousal.

"Look in the mirror," Sebastian ordered while spreading Jim's legs once again. Jim obeyed, and they locked gazes in their reflections. "Don't stop looking. If I catch you looking anywhere else or closing your eyes, I'll stop and make you suck me off, and then I'll go back home and leave you here with your toys. Understood?"

Jim nodded mutely, his expression now determined as he stared back at Sebastian in the mirror. Sebastian positioned himself behind Jim, pressing his fingers into him once more just to watch Jim's face in the mirror. Satisfied that he could see Jim properly, he removed his fingers and pushed into Jim in one long, slow thrust, moaning as he was surrounded in Jim's tight heat.

"Fuck, Jim," he groaned, simply remaining buried up to the hilt inside Jim while he locked eyes with the man in the mirror. "God, you're beautiful like this," he murmured while slowly pulling out. Jim's eyes were wide and dark with lust as Sebastian began thrusting into him, pushing a little harder against his prostate with every inward snap of his hips. Seeing Jim biting his lip surely hard enough to draw blood, Sebastian smirked at him. "You can make all the noise you want, Jim. Nobody's here but me."

As soon as he was given permission, Jim cried out, but still his eyes remained focused on Sebastian in the mirror. Sebastian smiled and began thrusting harder into Jim, watching with intense pleasure as Jim's mouth formed rounded "O"s of moaned pleasure, followed by him clenching his jaw and gasping as Sebastian slammed himself deeper and harder into his body. The bathroom was filled with their noise now, their panting breaths and strangled moans, their hoarse cries and the staccato pounding of flesh. Jim's arms were straining against his bonds as Sebastian thrust into him, but the belt held tight. Sebastian groaned as he pictured the pattern of bruising that was surely forming on Jim's wrists and forearms at that moment, marking that would detail their exploits for days to come.

Maintaining his pounding rhythm, Sebastian leaned forward and began nipping at Jim's neck, making sure to keep his eyes raised to watch for any transgressions in the mirror. Jim's gaze remained firmly locked on him however, despite the surely overwhelming urge to throw his head back and cry out his pleasure to the ceiling. "Do you want to come?" Sebastian growled into his ear.

"God, yes-Ah!- Seb, yes." Jim was panting, barely able to formulate words around his moans.

"What do you want?"

Jim's whole body shuddered as Sebastian slammed his hips forward with enough force to knock Jim against the counter. "I want," he gasped, "Your hand around my- Oh, god- my cock while you- Ah!- come inside me."

Sebastian pulled back, breaking the contact between his lips and Jim's skin to oblige his request. He gripped Jim's cock firmly, stroking up and down quickly while adding a twist of his wrist and a swirl of his thumb over the head. Jim was now moaning loudly enough that Sebastian was sure their neighbors below could hear him, but he was being a good boy and keeping his eyes on the mirror as Sebastian had commanded, so Sebastian didn't make any attempts to gag him. Instead, he picked up the rhythm of his hips so he was now pushing into Jim at a near punishing pace, sweat dripping down his forehead and back while he worked to push Jim over the edge. He could feel himself coming close, could feel the tell-tale heat building at his lower abdomen, but he was determined to make Jim come first, so he brought his other hand down between Jim's legs to begin fondling his balls once more. That dragged a choked, rough cry that sounded very near a sob from Jim as he finally began spasming with the first tides of his climax. Sebastian continued thrusting into him, giving a sharp cry of his own as the twitching of Jim's muscles around him finally sent him over the edge. It was all he could do to maintain eye contact with Jim in the mirror as his world condensed to the white hot pleasure of his orgasm, but he managed, only breaking their gaze when he slumped over Jim's back, too weak following his climax to stand properly.

After a few moments of gasping and panting together, Sebastian slowly pulled himself from Jim and set about unbinding him. Jim gave a relieved sigh as his arms fell loose and Sebastian began rubbing circulation back them, smirking as he examined the criss-cross pattern of red lines which will have developed into faint bruises by the next morning. As soon as he was freed, Jim fell against Sebastian's chest, his arms tangling around Sebastian's neck while he scattered kisses over his neck and collar bone.

"Told you I needed you," he murmured.

"I suppose you did," Sebastian laughed while half-carrying Jim back to the bedroom. He suspected that, in less than an hour or so, Jim would be "needing" him again, and Sebastian wanted to be well-rested for their second go around.


End file.
